


Mix It Up

by mukedayparade



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Cashton, Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Muke - Freeform, hopeless romantic luke, mixer, moody michael, optimistic luke, socially awkward michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 21:28:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3544421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukedayparade/pseuds/mukedayparade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one where Luke is a hopeless romantic in need of a new boyfriend, and Michael is a moody, socially-awkward college dropout who Calum just wants to stop intruding on his dates with Ashton. what better way to solve both their problems than a gay mixer?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mix It Up

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i got this idea in whole foods on valentines day and just had to write it so here is a fluffy piece of fuzz to warm all your muke hearts

**_Michael_ **

"Hey, want to watch a movie tonight? We can order pizza, or Chinese! We haven't had Chinese in a while," Michael rambled off to his roommate as he walked into the living room, where Calum was sitting on the couch.

"Uh, I kind of have plans tonight already, Mikey. Sorry," Calum smiled apologetically at his best friend.

"What kind of plans? Can I come?"

"Um, no, not really. Ash and I are going out to dinner."

"Where? I'll tag along," Michael grinned at the dark haired boy, dropping down on the couch beside him.

"No, Mike, like _dinner_."

"Yeah Calum, I know what dinner is," Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"No. Michael, Jesus, you don't get it. We're going out on a date. Something we haven't been able to do lately."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's supposed to mean that you're always infringing on our time together and we don't get any time alone anymore! He's my boyfriend, Michael, I want to be able to go on dates with him!"

"Well I'm sorry that I like to spend time with my two best friends!"

"Maybe you should just get your own goddamn boyfriend and stop pretending that you're fine with having no one except me and Ashton to hang out with!"

Michael breathes out shakily, standing up from the couch.

"You know what Calum? Fuck you."

"Michael, shit, I didn't mean to flip o–"

"Fuck you!" Michael turned on his heel and stormed to his room, slamming the door.

It wasn't his fault that he was alone. Michael just wasn't good at, like, talking to people. He'd met Calum in high school and wasn't even sure how they ended up becoming friends, but Calum somehow didn't get sick of him and let Michael hang around. And then he'd met Ash through Cal, once they started dating, and they'd become friends because Calum had basically forced it. Michael didn't even _have_ any other friends, he just couldn't talk to people like a normal person. Friends were hard enough, let alone a boyfriend.

Michael knew that he should've figured that Cal and Ash would get fed up with him eventually. He was always tagging along on their dates, sitting in while they watched movies, and just overall being too _clingy_.

But it wasn't Michael's fault. He didn't _have_ other friends, and he couldn't make any. He'd never even _had_ a boyfriend, just some hookups. Hookups were easy, he didn't have to talk to them. Michael was pretty sure if he tried to go on a date, he'd scare the guy off with his blatant lack of social skills.

But, like, it wasn't like he _wanted_ to be like this. If he could have it his way, Michael would be able to chat up guys and have a huge group of friends. Okay, maybe not _huge_ , but more than two people.

But life didn't like Michael, and he wasn't so fond of it himself, so this was what he got. He got shitty social skills and a personality that made him seem like he didn't give a fuck. Which, honestly, helped a little. At least he could give off the appearance that he _wanted_ to be a loner. People didn't have to know it wasn't his choice.

Michael sighed in defeat, falling backward onto his bed before rolling over and burying his face in the pillows. He would just stay in here for the rest of his life. He didn't need friends, or a boyfriend. Michael didn't need anyone. He was just fine on his own.

**_Luke_ **

"You want to come out with us, Luke? We're headed to grab some dinner," Amy questioned, intertwining her fingers with those of her boyfriend James.

"No, it's fine. You guys go have a date, I don't want to crash it," Luke offered her a small smile, trying to be convincing.

"C'mon, Luke. You've barely been coming out with us lately, ever since–" Amy subtly (actually, not very subtly: Luke totally noticed) kicked James in the shin, cutting him off. He realized his mistake, mumbling an apology.

"Ames, you don't have to stop him. We all know I've been moping for months ever since Cam broke up with me. But I swear, it's fine, I'm fine! Go be happy, don't let me drag you down."

"Lukey, you wouldn't be dragging us down! Come with, please," Amy pouted slightly, looking up at her tall friend.

"No, no. Seriously. You guys go have fun, I'll see you later."

Amy sighed in defeat, nodding and letting go of James's hand to hug Luke. The blonde kissed her cheek lightly, bidding the couple goodbye and heading back to his dorm.

He swore he wouldn't let his break up drag him down like this, but everyone knew it would anyway. Luke was a hopeless romantic, always had been, and he'd thought Cameron was his soulmate. That is, until his  _soulmate_  fucked some other guy and told Luke over _text_ _message_.

Ever since then, Luke had been moping. He knew what he needed; he needed a new boyfriend. But that was easier said than done.

**_Michael_ **

"Michael, please come out! I'm sorry for being a dick." Calum had been banging on Michael's door for the past half hour, trying to get him to finally come out of his room.

"Fuck off Calum."

"Come on Mikey, just come out! I have something for you."

"Is it a new personality?"

Calum laughed quietly, shaking his head at his best friend, though he couldn't see him through the door.

"No. Come out."

Michael sighed and pulled himself up from his bed, fisting the ends of his sweatshirt sleeves in his hands—a nervous habit he had.

"Mi–"

"You know I don't want to be like this, Cal. I _wish_ I could be like you, meet a guy, and date him. I wish I could make friends easily and not be a burden to the only one I have. But I can't, that's not me, and I'm sorry."

"Michael. Michael, you're not a burden to me. You never are, please don't think that."

"Well it's hard not to when I'm always being so clingy! You'd be better off with a new best friend, one who has actual social skills."

"Michael," Calum stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his best friend. "I love having you as my best friend, just how you are. I'm so sorry I flipped out, Ash and I just haven't had a lot of alone time lately and I've been edgy. I'm so sorry."

Michael shook his head, resting it on Calum's shoulder. "It's okay, you had every right to be mad. I'm really clingy, it must be annoying."

"It's not," he paused for a moment, pulling away from the hug and continuing hesitantly. "Mikey, did you mean what you said? That you wish you could have a boyfriend?"

Michael shrugged, making a quiet noncommittal sound. "Yeah, sort of. But it's fine, I don't, like, _need_ a boyfriend. It's not necessary for me to survive. It would just be...nice, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know. So, I kind of got something that might help." Calum slowly pulled out a flyer from his pocket, knowing Michael would probably freak at him. But it was worth a shot, so he handed it to the blue haired boy.

Michael glanced down at it, confused, and read it over quickly.

**Mix it up!**

**Are you a single guy looking for a new boyfriend?**

**Come hang out a mix it up with some other single gays!**

"What the fuck?"

"Michael, hear me out! It could be good, you could actually meet someone!"

"Yeah, some desperate fuck who goes to _gay mixers_!"

"Well did you want to go to a _straight mixer_?"

"Jesus Christ, Calum, that's not the fucking point!"

"Come _on_ , Mike! Branch out, try it!" Calum's voice dropped to a calmer octave. "You need to meet someone and start living your life."

Michael sighed, biting his lip. "When is it?"

_**Luke** _

Luke had gotten halfway to his dorm when he realized that he was actually hungry. Turning down dinner with Amy and James was good in theory, but not good for his stomach. So he'd turned around and headed to his favorite Mexican place down the block, deciding to just grab a taco—or three—and then turn in for the night.

He ordered his four tacos and grabbed himself a seat at an empty table, glancing idly around the little restaurant. There were flyers all over every wall, haphazardly taped up in every open space. Luke let his eyes wander over each of them, the words written across the papers barely making their way into his mind. Well, that is, until one flyer caught his eye.

**Mix it up!**

**Are you a single guy looking for a new boyfriend?**

**Come hang out a mix it up with some other single gays!**

**Who knows? Maybe you could find your soulmate!**

It was like the poster was put there just for him. This was he needed: a mixer! He could meet a cute guy, fall in love, and get over Cameron once and for all. It was fate.

Not wasting another second, Luke jumped up and took a picture of the flyer, taking note of the date, time, and location. Suddenly his night wasn't looking as bad.

**_Michael_ **

"I still think this is ridiculous," Michael grumbled from the backseat of Calum's car.

Calum had just pulled up in front of the place the mixer was being held—a cute little bakery that had been rented out for the day—and was waiting for Michael to get out and go inside. Calum's fingers twisted between Ashton's, he glanced back at his best friend with an exasperated expression.

"Come on, Michael. Just go inside. If you decide you don't want to be there after 20 minutes, call me and I'll pick you up, okay?"

The blue-haired boy sighed, but nodded in consent.

"Fine. Jesus, fine. Keep your phone on you." He climbed out of the car, slamming the door a little too hard and heading toward the entrance with his head down.

He paused as he heard the window of the car roll down, and Calum's voice shout out of it to him. "Have fun, Mikey! Meet a nice boy for yourself!"

"Fuck you!" Michael called over his shoulder, continuing his journey to the door.

As he entered the little bakery, Michael took in the view. There were a bunch of tables set up, with two chairs at each, and a table at the front with a bunch of playing cards. A few guys—decent looking, but nothing that caught Michael's eye—sat in some of the chairs, and one man stood at the front of the room behind the card table. Michael huffed quietly and took a seat at an empty table, his hands in his hoodie pocket and his eyes down. More guys continued to file in, and Michael tried to fight his growing nervousness, masking it with a look of disinterest.

"Well, it looks like we've got a good turn out right now, so let's get started!" The man at the front of the room captured the attention of the others, making Michael glance up slightly. "So, here's how it's going to go. We have two identical decks of cards, and each of you will get a card. You match it to the person with the same card as you, and you go to the table with your indicated card! Every 10 minutes, you pick a new card and switch partners! Any questions?"

The room was silent, so he proceeded to call everyone up to pick a card. Michael grabbed his hastily when it was his turn, barely glancing down at it, and returned to his seat. Keeping his eyes down and his hands shoved in his pockets, he glanced down at the card lying on the table in front of him. Queen of Spades.

"Okay everyone, find the table that has the same card you picked!"

Michael picked up his card and dragged himself out of his chair, looking around the room nervously for the table that had a Queen of Spades on it. He found it after a minute, sitting down alone, as the other guy clearly hadn't found it yet.

"Well, I guess we're partners." Michael looked up to find a guy with black hair and a goatee staring down at him, an uneasy smile on his face. He was wearing a leather jacket and khakis, with a colorful tie around his neck.

"Yeah, guess we are."

"Okay everyone, get started! You have 10 minutes. Go!" The man at the front announced, and everyone began talking quietly.

Michael and the goatee guy were silent for a minute, and Michael grew nervous and uncomfortable. He might as well  _try_  to stir up a conversation.

"So—"

"How old are you?" The goatee guy questioned, a skeptical look on his face.

"I'm 21, why?" Michael furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why this guy was asking that before they'd even introduced themselves.

"You look young. I'm 26, so..."

"Well good for you," Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"I'm Patrick, by the way," the goatee guy commented, an annoyed look on his face.

"Michael." His voice was devoid of emotion by now, completely pissed with this guy. So what if Michael was 21? Maybe _Patrick_ shouldn't be going to mixers at 26.

"Why is your hair that color?"

"Because I _like_ it. Why the fuck are you so judgmental?"

"Woah, chill out, kid."

"I'm not a kid, oh my god! I shouldn't have even come to this fucking mixer, Jesus!" Michael raised his voice slightly, completely done and ready to go home again. He should've never come, this was such a bad idea. He was going to kill Calum.

"You know what? Why don't you just calm down? Maybe you should do something about your anger problems."

Michael bit his lip hard, glaring at the other man and holding back a snide remark. He was so past done with this pretentious asshole. Who wears a leather jacket with a tie and khakis, anyway?

"Okay, switch! Everyone come grab a new card!"

Michael couldn't get up fast enough, stumbling to the front and depositing his card on the table. He spun on his heel, ready to walk out the door and go back to hiding in his room for the rest of his life.

"Woah, what're you doing there?"

Michael stopped in his tracks, glancing back hesitantly. "I'm leaving, why?"

"No, no, no. C'mon back, buddy! We aren't done, there's no leaving early."

"What the fuck? You can't force me to stay," Michael glared at the excited man in annoyance.

"I suppose not. But if you go, someone will be without a partner every time! And, plus, you've only been through one round. Just stay a while, maybe next round will be great!"

Michael sighed, rolling his eyes. He wanted to go so badly, but he knew deep down that he didn't want to be the reason someone had to sit alone each time. That wasn't fair. So he nodded, grumbling quietly and shuffling over to the table to grab a card. The eight of hearts. He looked around, trying to locate the table he needed to go to. After a minute of frustration, he found it, and shuffled over with his hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie.

"Guess we're partners," he mumbled, slumping down in his chair with his eyes on the table. He didn't even look up, not bothering to look at this guy who would probably just make fun of him anyway.

"Yeah, I guess so! I'm Luke, what's your name?" The guy had an overly excited tone in his voice, as if he couldn't help himself from grinning at the fact that he was at a gay mixer in a tiny café with a guy who _clearly_ didn't want to be there.

"Michael," he grumbled out, his eyes still focused on the table.

"I like that name. My name is so boring, I wish I had a more exciting one. Michael is nicer than Luke."

Michael rolled his eyes. Was this kid seriously trying to make conversation about their _names_?

"Cool."

"I like your hair, by the way. It's a really pretty color, and it matches your skin tone nicely. Do you dye it a lot or is that the color you use all the time?"

Michael perked up slightly, sitting up a bit more in his seat. This kid was interested in his hair, he _liked_ his hair. That was _something_ at least.

"Uh, I dye it a lot. I just did red before this, and I had that for a while."

"I bet you'd look good with red hair. It'd match your lips—oh god, I just said that out loud didn't I? Sorry, shit, I'm not good at not saying everything that comes into my mind."

Michael finally looked up, and saw the boy blushing with an uneasy smile on his face.

And, he

was

 _beautiful_.

"Y–you–no, it's fine. It's, yeah. Fine."

"I like your, um, your shirt by the way. Mayday is one of my favorite bands."

Michael smiled slightly and glanced down at his Mayday Parade shirt. "Thanks. Good music taste."

Luke blushed a little more, smiling gratefully. "Thanks. What other bands do you like?"

"Uh, like, All Time Low, Blink, Green Day, a—"

"I love _all_ those bands! Oh my god! _Finally_ , someone with good music taste!" Michael grinned, nodding his head.

"I'm glad you're more like me. The last guy I was paired with judged the shit out of me before we'd even gotten our names out."

Luke laughed, and Michael swore to god it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

"What an asshole, that sucks."

"How old are you, by the way? Just, like, wondering."

"I'm 20, you?"

"21," Michael couldn't wipe the grin off his face now. "You in uni, or...?"

"Yeah, studying music and maths. My two strange passions that don't really mix."

Michael laughed quietly. "What do you play?"

"Guitar, mostly, but I sing a little too. You play anything?"

"Same as you, but I'm a shit singer. Just do it for fun."

"You in uni?"

"I'm, uh, taking a year off. Wasn't for me."

"Hey, that's cool. Do what you love, that's what I always say."

Michael smiled brightly, nodding his head. So many people had judged him and shamed him when he dropped out last year. It was refreshing hearing someone support his decision.

"So what do you do?"

"I, uh, I live with my best friend Calum and work at a record store. Doesn't pay much, but I'm always surrounded by music."

"That's _so cool_! Working in a record store is, like, such a cool job. I've wanted to do that, but I work in some coffee shop on campus," Luke rolled his eyes.

"If you want a job, I can try to hook you up. We have openings all the time."

"Really? That would be awesome! Oh my god, thank you, Michael."

Michael blushed slightly at the sound of his name coming from Luke's lips. It sounded so _pretty_ in his voice.

"Sure, it's no problem."

"Switch!"

Michael deflated. He didn't _want_ to switch, he actually _liked_ Luke.

"Shit, aw, okay. It was nice—"

"Do you want to grab some coffee? I'd really, um, like to, uh, get to know y–you better?" Michael inwardly cursed at himself for being so bad at talking, so goddamn awkward.

"Sure! That sounds great!" Luke smiled brightly, standing up from the table.

"O–okay. Let's go." Luke reached down, grabbing Michael's hand in his and intertwining their fingers.

And Michael felt _sparks_ shoot up his arm from the tips of his fingers. It was like this was where his hand was always meant to be.

"We're leaving, thank you!" Luke smiled at the man at the front, turning to the door.

"You're what? But I just—"

"Well," Michael spoke up. "Since both of us are leaving, you still have an even number of people. And you were right, the next round was _great_." He grinned at the man and turned back to the door, leading them outside into the parking lot.

"So, this worked out well, huh?"

Michael nodded, a smile still present on his face. "I'm really glad I didn't leave when I was going to."

"Me too."

The two boys stood on that sidewalk, outside that stupid little café that was way too cutesy, where a mixer was going on that Michael hadn't wanted to go to at all, with their hands intertwined and eager smiles in their eyes, and they began to fall.

 


End file.
